(We are pleased to post the following "Insights Column" from the Illinois Council Against Handgun Violence).

ICHV Insights Column by Garrett Evans

Garrett Evans was wounded and survived the massacre at Virginia Tech University in 2007. He later graduated from the university and now lives in Chicago, where he frequently speaks about gun violence to schools and other organizations.

February 3, 2010

I woke up one morning in the middle of April of 2007. It was the oddest of days. The wind was howling, it was snowing, the skies were overcast and the temperature was 34 degrees at a time when it was usually 65 or even 75 degrees. I was a student at Virginia Tech, and I was only a few weeks away from getting my degree in economics.

Something told me to avoid class altogether, but I said let’s just go and get it over with.

Normally, when I walked into my German class, I was always greeted with a smile by this young lady I knew. On this day, I walked through the door and she paid me absolutely no mind. I was wondering what was going on because that was too different.

Slowly, when I went to sit down, everything else looked and felt a little different. Then, a few minutes later, the door kind of screeched.

Then it happened a second time, about five or seven minutes later.

I was trying to figure out what that was about. A few minutes later, I heard a series of loud banging sounds. I was thinking maybe they were doing some work in another room.

Then we heard screaming: a woman was screaming in the hallway. I didn't know if it was just "playing around screaming" or screaming like something was wrong. I was thinking, "What is this?"

Seconds later, the door opened rapidly. The first thing I saw was a gun unloading, one round after another.

I was thinking a million things at once. I was wondering most of all if this was real. The young woman I knew was one of the first to get shot. She died instantly.

Everything was happening so fast that I had no time to be shocked. All I could do was think fast and react. The instructor was shot in the forehead. A man in front of me was shot in the neck; his blood spurted out like it was coming from a fountain. Bodies were falling one by one. As I hit the floor, I felt something go through my right leg. It didn't feel like anything at first, but my leg started swelling.

Meanwhile, the shooter was walking around the room and continued to shoot. He unloaded one magazine and reloaded another in seconds.

It was like the shooter knew exactly what he was doing, like he had a mission in mind: To kill as many people as he could. While he was shooting, I was trying to get underneath some desks to take as much cover as I could.

Then I noticed him turning toward the door to leave. I realized that I had to stop moving. I was praying: God, please don’t let this man kill me. He went back to the rooms to finish off anyone else.

After he left, I was trying to take my shirt off and tie it onto my leg to stop the bleeding. Then I realized that my left leg felt wet. I looked down and realized that I was shot there, too. That is when another guy came to help me get another shirt off to tie it to my other leg. I was talking really fast, letting him know that I appreciated his help; I knew the shooter was going to return to the room to finish us all off. He tried to get through the door, but three other people fought him off.

I was the last person conscious or living to leave the room because I was unable to walk. As I waited for the police to open the door, the stench of all the dead bodies quickly filled the room.

My stomach was turning and I felt like I was coming down with a migraine. It was so unbearable that it was difficult to see straight.

Finally, the police arrived. Two officers picked me up, and had to carry me out. As they did, I saw more bodies in the hall and in other rooms. Oh my God. I was thinking a million different things at once. It's hard to think clearly when you're so anxious.

When I got to the hospital, I learned that one bullet had gone in and out of my right leg, and then traveled to my left leg, where it stayed. It didn't hit a thing besides muscle.

I was relieved and realized how blessed I really was to be living.

I learned when I was in the hospital that the shooter killed himself after killing 32 and wounding 26. I later found out that six people had been admitted to the psych ward at the hospital. That tells you how brutal and surreal all of this was.

When I had a chance to really stop and think about what happened, I realized that I had to forgive the shooter because I knew that God had some things for me to do. I know some people would still be angry with him, but I felt that it doesn't do any good to harbor anger like that. It prevents me from doing anything positive. Besides, I knew that God had my back.

When I arrived back on campus, I was asked to speak to a couple of my classes about the shooting. Then I wondered, "Am I called to do exactly this?"

Since Virginia Tech, I have spoken to women's groups, schools, and many other organizations, including those whose members strongly oppose gun control. I have been doing this since I graduated in 2007, and I have also participated in press conferences, rallies and peace marches.

I decided to do all of these things because this was what I was called to do – and because I am also trying to save lives.

What happened to me can happen anyplace. You have to see the bigger picture: Look at what's happening around the country.

We have too many politicians in Springfield who do not pay enough attention to this issue. I had a state representative tell me that these shootings only happen in Chicago and not downstate. That is when I realized that she and many other politicians are not immune to being naïve.

Shootings are happening in rural and suburban areas as well. We must prevent gun violence in all places.

Why don’t we work together to prevent more tragedies? I have spoken to a lot of parents and children, who have just as much to offer on this issue as politicians. Many are too frustrated with what has happened to speak out about it – they feel their points are not as well taken as they should be. Many of the leaders and politicians have their own agendas and egos, which causes a bit of separation.

We need to come together and create a positive spirit from the children to the parents – and from the community leaders to the politicians. It’s impossible to overemphasize the power of strength in numbers.

We all have the power to prevent violence (and violence goes much deeper than just guns). That is one of my messages when I go to schools. I tell students that we need to focus on basic and simple things -- like listening to people, talking out our problems and being there for people. If we did all of that, do you think these things would be as likely to happen? We have to get to the heart and spirit and emotions of people if we are going to make any dent in the problem we call violence.

I have survived, and I know how much we need to raise awareness about this issue. We have a problem, and by speaking out and working together we can prevent a whole lot of tragedies. I know we can talk all day long about policies and legislation, but we have to peacefully come together first.

How are the lawmakers down in Springfield going to propose or pass any type of sensible laws when not enough people come together to create a powerful voice?

The more we are involved, the greater the chance is that we will have a positive effect.

As for me, I am sure that I must stay involved. I will be damned if I let what happened at Virginia Tech go in vain.

by Garrett Evans